


The Phantom Always Rings Twice

by Kimcat



Series: Phic Phight 2020 [6]
Category: Danny Phantom
Genre: Gen, Identity Reveal, Lancer POV, Lancer pretends to be a detective, Phic phight 2020, Team Ghost, introspective
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-07
Updated: 2020-04-07
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:02:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23531278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kimcat/pseuds/Kimcat
Summary: It started with small things. Little things that could be misconstrued as happenstance and coincidence, and then it evolved into something more, something bigger. And, well, William Lancer always did love a good mystery novel.
Series: Phic Phight 2020 [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1685026
Comments: 16
Kudos: 316





	The Phantom Always Rings Twice

**Author's Note:**

> This wasn't supposed to be this long but I get the writing demons and go... regardless enjoy this introspective rambling story from Lancer's POV lol. Phic Phight 2020 #6 unbetaed so if you see any errors let me know! and please R&R
> 
> Also bonus points if you get the reference in the title!

**Dalv-co-official**

**AO3: betelgeuse**

  * ******How does Mr. Lancer find out that Danny is Phantom?**



**-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-**

**The Phantom Always Rings Twice**

* * *

It started with small things. Little things that could be misconstrued as happenstance and coincidence. Things that could be written off easily with little thought or without really thinking into it too hard. 

And while William Lancer took notice of the oddities and inconsistencies that seemed to fill one Daniel Fenton’s life, he couldn’t piece together exactly what was happening within the greater story. 

A story that he wanted to see unfold fully. 

It was like a mystery novel in a way. One would need to read through each chapter, each paragraph carefully to be able to find the breadcrumb trail left by the author to be able to figure out the final twist at the end in its entirety. As of now, he only had the pieces that were left out in the open. 

The pieces he had seen that were left behind to be seen were large and obvious, meant to throw one off the trail of the deeper lore in the pages. With glaring arrows and flashing lights, they were meant to attract your attention so that you failed to notice the tiny crumb on the floor just off to the side. 

And it worked well for a time until he had started to take notice of the crumbs. He had looked away from the glitz and offered a story on the platter and taken notice of something small, insignificant. A bruise under the boy's eye, a small garish yellow thing. He had the boy in the morning and noticed it as he went around to collect the homework he’d assigned, and of course, Fenton hadn’t done it. When he had seen the boy once again later that day the bruise was gone. There was no indication that there was any makeup used to hide it either.

After that point, the teacher had made a point to follow the breadcrumbs. The small bits of the trail that were left behind to indicate something more. He had gotten a taste, and he wanted more. He had to solve the conundrum that was presented before him.

So, he watched. He listened. He learned and he researched. 

He saw the boy limping to through the lunch line, but had not seen any instance of bullying that would have caused it, and once again by the time the boy was in his class once again that day, no semblance of it ever had happened. 

Abuse at home was quickly ruled out as a good portion of the things that happen to him seem to be at the school. 

He had tried to confront the boy about him clutching his chest and his rattling breaths, as though he had broken a rib or some other such thing, and simply was waved off.   
  
“I’m a clutz, I fell down the stairs” Daniel had said to his inquiry, dodging the question smoothly. He had seen the boy many a time simply stumble over his feet on flat ground, so tripping downstairs was not something too outlandish to believe. 

And yet in the same breath, he had also seen the teen pull off amazing feats of coordination when he believed no one was watching him. How he gracefully slid around corners to escape the quarterback’s cajoling, or how he had leaped over a railing into the back garden of the school, rolling to disperse the energy in such a way any master of parkour would be proud to see.

He would entertain the idea of seeming smaller then he was, too. He had noticed it during a presentation when Daniel came to the front of the class. When Dashiel stuck out a foot to try to trip Daniel. Daniel’s eyes flickered for the briefest of moments to the other’s leg before hooking his ankle and preforming a marvellous pratfall. But as he lay prone on the ground he was stretched out showing his full height.

When he regained himself and moved to the front of the class once again, Daniel had curved his back and dropped his shoulders inward, doing a wondrous impression of the hunchback of Notre Dame. 

Why would Daniel want to appear smaller? Surely appearing larger would help stop those such as Dashiel from bothering him as much, so why? What purpose did this serve? 

Then, of course, there was the matter he had seen the other’s attempt to trip him up, and instead of simply walking over the trap, he fell into it headfirst, let the class laughed at him before continuing on with whatever charade he deemed necessary to fulfil.

Why bother with such nonsensical things when he could have easily rolled jumped or any other manner of things to avoid making himself into a laughing stock. Perhaps he didn’t like attention then?

Well, it would be a simple theory to test. William had dabbled in sciences before majoring in English and history after all...

Putting the attention on Daniel was an easy feat. A simple manner or pointing out his lacking marks and offering a simple way to make up the credit. A public speaking competition or a talent show. Surprisingly the teen had chosen to help out with the talent show. A Stagehand true, but still. He had no problem running out onto the stage to check microphones were working, plugged in correctly, or had good battery depending on what was being used. 

The eyes on him didn’t seem to hinder his performance, so long as he had a purpose to hone in on… so why? 

Perhaps the opposite then? Did he enjoy the attention and figured that being a laughing stock was a way to be noticed? Well, that theory was quickly squashed when he saw the teen have his clothes get stolen in Gym, and doused in pink dye turning his usually white shirt a rather flamboyant shade of flamingo.

All eyes were certainly on him. 

Still, the teen spent a good portion of that school day hiding within his friend’s hoodie and opted to wear his Gym shorts. It was the middle of February so it was still rather cold. And with only a hoodie Daniel still braved the outdoors with little notice. 

And that was his next crumb. 

The boy didn’t seem to notice the cold. 

The teacher had seen the teen arrive at the school the following week when a freak blizzard popped up, wearing no coat and very little protection beyond that from the frigid temperatures outside. 

He had heard of people being ‘warm blooded’ and not having the cold climate bother them too much but this was within the realm of ludacrisy! Surely his body was under duress of some kind! Was he ill? 

When asked once again Daniel had waved off his concern, “I’m good. I’m not sick just a little sleepy is all” He had deferred once again pushing off the concern and offering an easy way out, a fake map on a silver platter that he was expected to follow. 

He took the offering. If for no other reason then to throw the teen off the notion that he may be tracing his footsteps. 

It seemed to have worked as intended, though the boy still seemed ill at ease in the classroom. He had noticed Daniel shiver and for the briefest of seconds, he could have sworn he’d seen the boy’s breath. 

Sure the classroom was chilly, the school board being too cheap to allow them to turn up the heat any higher than the current brisk twenty celsius, but that was still far above where one would start to see the condensation of someone’s breath. 

He was drawn out of the musings of this current conundrum by the very topic of his brain’s musings. Hand shooting high as he wiggles in his seat, Daniel looked determined suddenly, and flighty. This was not a new occurrence either. Since the start of the youngest Fenton’s schooling career, he had been randomly ditching class. Sometimes it would be brief, entertaining the simplest of needs it would seem, other times he would not be seen for hours by any teacher in the school only to come back a while later dishevelled and out of breath as though he had run a marathon. 

William sighed and waved Daniel off. It was no use disallowing the boy to exit. He would simply leave the first chance he was given to take his leave. This has happened not only to himself but other members of the staff it seemed. 

Daniel could be as quiet as a mouse when he needed to be. 

His next trail on the line of crumbs was much larger, much more succulent. Almost like a cake crumb instead of a bread crumb. It was sweetened with honey and made him crave the full buffet table all the more. 

Hm, perhaps he should break for lunch… that was many more food allusions then usual. He must be hungry.

As he made his way down the hall once again he saw, Daniel. He was not in his morning classroom today, though that was hardly a surprise, given the boy’s record… still, he couldn’t deny the interest he had taken in this scenario. Dashiel had cornered Michiel threatening him with a ‘beat down’ which made the man frown deeply. 

He hated how much their school funding relied on the sports departments to do well. What he wouldn’t give to have a few new books in the school. Prefibily something from the twenty-first century. 

Of course, this meant that Dashiel was able to get away with almost anything being how well he performed on the field, carrying the Casper High Ravens to the playoffs. As such a warning would be the most he could really receive for ‘roughhousing’ as it were…

Still, before he could step in, Daniel did, dryly commenting on Dashiel’s brain capacity and quipping out a few other rather boorish insults. “What’s the matter Dash? Is your shoe size larger than your IQ?” Dashiel threw a textbook towards Daniel who ducked, only causing himself to draw more ire. “Ha, what was that? Ya missed me! Honestly, a star quarterback and can’t hit the broad side of a barn!”

With that Daniel took off, thus getting the larger teen to give chase and letting the poor hapless nerd go in favour of a more fit target. All in all not too much by itself, but William had found the conjoining piece after classes were done and he was heading to his car.

There was a ghost attack. Nothing new there, as they were rather common around the school, being as there was always a large congregation of people. Ghosts seemed to hit those places the most frequently after all. The leading theory was that they had more chances to gain their food source from the emotions of humans. 

This was also the main point of controversy for why Phantom was not a hero but more akin to an animal protecting its food source. Regardless of the reason, William had seen first hand the ghostly teen do his routine and had to admit, things would often be much worse without the Phantom ‘protecting his food source’ all the time.

Regardless that thought was neither here nor there as he snapped himself out of his musings to watch for an opening to speed away in his hatchback and try his best not to damage his already thrice repaired vehicle. 

The ghosts twisted and turned around one another in a ballet that could be something akin to a world war two era dog fight, as Phantom blasted the hunter ghost from behind only to zip away from the other’s shots or expertly deflect them.

In a way, it was mesmerizing to watch the ariel promenade, as the two spun and did their sword’s dance along the razor blade of death. However, that was not what caught his attention today. No, it was the words being spewed back and forth between the ghosts. 

“What’s the matter, Skulker? Is your shoe size larger than your IQ?” Phantom laughed out before dodging around a laser of some kind. “Ha, what was that? Ya missed me! Honestly, Zone’s greatest hunter? You can’t hit the broad side of a barn!” He quipped before flying skyward leading the ghost away from the school building by drawing the ire…

William Lancer was not a man who was unobservant or unintelligent, and he was also not a man to ignore such coincidences such as this. Not only was it the words spoken from the ghost, but it was the  _ way _ it was spoken as well that gave him pause. The same inflection and same tone he had heard on Daniel just a few hours prior. 

And the more he focused on it the more similarities he found. 

They had the same voice when they spoke. An easy enough fact to find and notice when compared side by side. A discussion in English class on media reporting, under the ruse of looking at the language used by the newscast, and a recording of a night's broadcast where Phantom was clearly picked up by the microphones. He had told the kids he wanted them to do a piece of mock news, a report on something in their life using the wording examples they had seen. 

The video played and he paused it right after Phantom’s smile and cheesy eighties slogan of ‘don’t do drugs’ was finished hamming up into the camera. It was then he called on Daniel to see what the teen noticed in the language used. And sure enough, the voices sounded identical, save for the echo like Phantom was talking into a tin can, but never the less it was a clue. 

And when he started looking into other things that would compare the meek child in his class to the ghostly hero that flew, fought and patrolled the town well… he became worried. 

When Daniel stood up straight, he was the same height as Phantom. When Daniel was forced to wear a proper Gym uniform, one where he couldn’t hide in a hoodie or long sleeved shirt, he was the same build. Then there were more subtle things, like the pair having the same laugh and same facial features, same windswept hair, same well… almost everything. 

But what does that mean then for Daniel? He had seen ghosts that have a shapeshifting ability before, most notably that awful ghostly therapist and the assistant they had brought in. So did that mean Daniel was a ghost? What were the implications of his death then? And when had it happened…?

His true lucky break came when he was taking over from the principal, and thus was not teaching his classes for the day. He was in the back staff storage closet, a small tight area with notebooks, chalk, and markers in a narrow L shape. He was simply taking inventory, a dreaded procedure that he had little doubt was left to him purposefully for when Iroshima had to attend the meeting with the school board. 

Regardless he was in the furthest section from the door around the tight corner when he heard it. The door opened and in stumbled Daniel Fenton. The teen heaved a sigh of relief, and just as he was about to reprimand Daniel for such delinquent behaviour, it happened. 

The truth, the piece he had been theorizing and grasping at, laid out before him. 

A bolt of light erupted from the teen’s waist in a hoop of iridescent stardust. It shone and glowed brightly as though someone had suddenly turned on a sun lamp. The ring split and diverged up and down, travelling quickly across the boy’s body in a ripple of power. As the rings passed the human guise of the teen it revealed a familiar jumpsuit, and even more familiar ghost beneath...

He could only watch bewildered as Phantom, no, Daniel took flight and headed off through the ceiling of the closet. He had been right? He had been right! Oh lord, he had been right…

Being right had never felt more wrong…

This teenager, this child… he truly dd carry the world on his shoulders, or at least the town. The boy who would sometimes limp to class and ignore his lectures on doing his homework to secure a relatively well off future, or at least a decent college acceptance… He had always looked as though nothing he said mattered, and well, he supposed given what he knows now that’s not far from the truth. 

Why would a child who was already dead, passed on and returned, care about his future as a human? Why would it ever be something that Daniel would take seriously when he literally had no future on this earth? 

Though it still begged the question why was he still bothering with school at all? Wouldn’t it be better to live as a ghost? He could patrol, fight and, well, do whatever it is that ghosts do in their spare time, all without the worry of his human habits and responsibilities getting in the way of his clearly favoured ghostly ones.

Though the more he thought on it the more he realized that this new line of questioning was not as complicated as he was tempted to make it out to be. Daniel had died and was a teen who never got to grow up. Perhaps that was all he was trying to do? 

Despite the limitations on his body, or perhaps lack thereof, he wanted to still be a teen. He wanted to spend time with his family and friends and experience the life that had been taken from him. 

He was given the chance to allow him such simple mercies after all. It would make sense he would take it. 

From that standpoint suddenly Phantom’s aggression and heroism took on a much sadder note. One of a teen that simply wanted the others of his breed to leave him be so he may fulfill whatever obsession is keeping him grounded here, experiencing life. 

And perhaps that’s what all the ghosts really wanted. From the Box Ghost to the King of the realm of the dead. Perhaps that’s what connected them all? To live out the rest of the life that had gotten taken from them from whatever it was that took it. Be it a fire disease injury or… whatever had taken Daniel. 

Wiliam appreciated the new standpoint and views he had gained. He was a teacher after all, and part of that was due to the love of learning he had that thrived in his very soul. It did make him wonder though. If he were to be struck down, would he have the strength of will to continue? To push past his own death to try and regain some semblance of what was taken from him?

Somehow he doubted it. 

Yet at the same time, he was alright with that notion. He was making a difference here and now and planned to for many years to come. Though for right now he would do his best to help the ghost boy in his homeroom class to live out his purpose. A makeup test here, extra credit there, and with any luck, the ghost would be able to graduate and live out the life he had lost. 

After all, William Lancer was a teacher at heart, a mentor. 

He was happy that he could just play a bit part in the background of the stories his students were living. A small thread in the tapestry that weaved their lives.

What more could a teacher ask for then to see his students succeed? After all, even dead teenagers seem to need help time and again. 

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

**Complete**

**Total word count: 3301**


End file.
